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by tjmystic



Series: Birthday Fics [17]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Physical Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-03
Packaged: 2017-12-04 03:53:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/706243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tjmystic/pseuds/tjmystic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU of Skin Deep - Belle evades capture and makes it back to the Dark Castle</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home

Home  
Birthday Fic #17

Rating: VERY INCREDIBLY NC-17

ronandhermy prompted: Rumbelle: AU at the Dark Castle if Belle avoided capture and made it back to Rum. Reunion scene. .. Go for it.

Author’s Note: Sorry for the long wait, guys. But hey, Rumbelle smut is always worth the wait, right? Well, I hope so anyway, lol. Best let you carry on, then – don’t want to hold you up any longer ;)

 

Dark stone stretched high into the air, disappearing into the low-hanging clouds that had swept in from the mountains. Turrets, both rounded and sharp, pierced the grey with sparks of lightning, looking like nothing so much as a stereotypical prison in a horror novel. Mere yards away, the iron front door with its gorgon-headed knocker flitted in and out of her line of vision with the fog. 

Belle shivered, anticipation, fear, and so much longing convalescing in her soul. She was finally here. She was finally home.

She fought the desire to race for the front door, not wanting to startle him or, worse, knock herself out on one of the flagstones due to her clumsiness. She hadn’t fought her way through Regina’s clutches unscathed just to get a concussion at Rumple’s front door. 

Well, not entirely unscathed, perhaps – the strip of flesh Regina had taken from her arm was still unbearably sore, but Belle though it a fair price to pay if it meant she could see Rumplestiltskin again. She’d walk through hellfire to see him. And, even disregarding her wounds, she probably looked like she had. 

Belle was stalling now, she knew it, but she stopped again to take inventory of her appearance. Her nose wrinkled at the sight of her muddy boots, torn men’s trousers, and gaping red tunic. The latter looked particularly ridiculous on her, especially in the cold, rainy weather. It had showcased her cleavage to begin with, but now here breasts were all but falling from the leathers. Her spine tingled at the memory of the guard’s sword, so close that it almost slashed through her heart. She’d never be able to repay Mulan and Phillip enough for helping her escape. 

Thunder crackled loud overhead, accompanied by the very first drops of rain. The water chilled her to the bone, and Belle wrapped her arms tight about her waist. With any luck, it would be Rumplestiltskin’s arms wrapped her around her soon, his hands tucked into her hips, his mouth pressed against her temples. That hope more than anything had her moving towards the door - just let him try to throw her out again. 

Belle bounded up the stairs, hand already raised to knock. The air all but left her lungs, though, when it swung back of its own accord. It had never done that before. Well, not for her, anyway. She’d always assumed it needed magic to open. 

Slowly, she peeked her head into the crack, expecting to see her Rumplestiltskin lurking behind it. But the hall was completely empty, save for a small cluster of roses on the table. Odd - he usually kept something in the hallway to frighten or tempt his rare intruders. Her eyebrows crinkled in confusion - something was wrong. 

Belle’s feet led her almost instantly down the familiar path to his dining room. She could hear the gentle creak of his spinning wheel even from outside the door. ”It helps me forget, he’d said. What was he trying to forget today? She already had her mouth open to ask him, more than willing to forego her manners in order to find out. That was the plan, anyway. But reality was that she’d been struck dumb by the sight of him. 

He didn’t give her the chance to recollect her thoughts. The moment she stepped into the room, knees quaking with the desire to just run up and hug him, he opened his own mouth and cut her off.

“Perhaps I should’ve been more specific last week, dearie - when I said ‘I’m not dealing today’, what I meant is I’m not dealing with you. Best be on your way.”

A lump rose up in Belle’s throat - she’d never heard him sound so worn before. So broken. And the details she’d missed on first seeing him only made her suspicions worse. He was wearing that dragonhide coat, the one with the sharp-ridged collar that covered half his cheeks. He hadn’t worn it since the first night she’d spent in his castle. His hands moved much too jerkily about his wheel, stringing the straw into thread with almost mechanical precision though he normally treated his golden strands with some degree of appreciation. 

She coughed, half-distraught and half-thankful. This was exactly what she needed to remind herself why she’d come back in the first place. It didn’t matter that he was hurt - no, no, that wasn’t right, either. His feelings mattered the world to her. But that was why his sadness would have to take a backseat - right now, what he needed to hear was that she loved him. Right now, she needed to know if he would admit to loving her, too. 

Belle took in a deep breath to steady herself and marched forward, her heels echoing against his thin carpet. His shoulders shook, and Belle could tell it was with barely suppressed rage. The lump in her throat grew when his hands dropped from the spinning wheel, but she didn’t stop moving. She needed to touch him – she needed to know he was there. 

“Maybe you didn’t hear me,” he groused, shifting to turn around in his seat. “I said I’m not –”

The words caught in his throat with a strangled gasp, eyes growing bronze with disbelief as he took her in. Belle wasn’t one to concern herself with her appearance, but she couldn’t help feeling self-conscious under his analysis. It was like he was taking in every inch of her, body and soul. 

“Belle?” he whispered.

Belle fought back her tears. “Yeah. It’s me.”

Rumplestiltskin slowly crawled to his feet, almost as if he feared that moving any faster would make her disappear. 

“I came back,” she said, wincing at her stupidity. Of course he knew she was back – what else did he think she was doing there? “And I’m here to stay. I love - “

He was upon her with an animal-like growl, one hand at her waist and the other digging hard into her throat. Her eyes widened with fear and shock. She’d been expecting any number of outcomes to her return, but this… this wasn’t one of them.

“I do so hate to ruin what I’m sure was a rehearsed performance, dearie,” he hissed, “but I’m just not in the mood.” 

His eyes glittered frighteningly, bronze orbs filled with hatred and (much deeper) hurt. Belle didn’t know what was going on, what could’ve happened to him to make him snap like this, but she wasn’t about to give up when there was pain in his eyes. 

“You’re going to hear it, whether you want to or not,” she panted. ”I didn’t come all this way just to have you shun me again.”

Something in him, whatever small shred of restraint he had left, snapped. He pushed her tighter to into the stones, squeezing ever tighter into her windpipe. Belle raised her arm to stop him, but he slapped it back before she could move any more than an inch. She hissed at the contact of his claws against her scratched skin, and Rumple dropped his eyes in an instant.

“Oh, did I hurt the pwetty little pwincess?” he mocked, slamming her even harder against the wall as he drew up her sleeve. “Did the big bad monster go and –” 

He choked. Belle refocused on his face, trying to see what was different, but nothing had changed. Rumplestiltskin was still staring at her arm, at the strip of flesh that had been flayed off there. She couldn’t see how that would make him stop when he already seemed intent on killing her.

“Oh, you twisted soul,” he finally said. Belle shivered – it would’ve been better if he’d yelled, or even giggled maniacally as he was wont to do. Instead, he hummed the words with almost no inflection at all, and that somehow made them all the more terrifying. 

“What are you talking about?” she croaked, still battling the hand at her neck. 

His eyes flashed up to hers, filled with such hatred that she was amazed she didn’t burn on the spot. 

“Like you don’t know,” he growled. “I’m surprised you didn’t show up with all of your skin removed, dearie. Would’ve made a much more lasting impression.”

His claws tightened, and Belle gagged. “I don’t know –”

“Yes, ya do!” he shouted, bashing her head against the stone. “‘Scourges and flaying,’ remember? Her father tortured her for being my maid! Just for working in my fucking castle! And then she flung herself out of her tower, that’s what you said! I thought you’d keep better track of your tales, Regina!” 

Belle didn’t know what he was talking about, and the air to her brain was too remote to allow for much thought. “Regina?” she eventually managed. “The queen?”

“You and your games, dearie.” He stared desperately at her face as if waiting for her to make a move. But what did he expect her to do with his hand in a vice grip around her throat? She could barely breathe, much less make any kind of motion. ”Do you honestly think you can pull one over on me after all this time? I’ve obviously given you more credit than you deserve.”

Stars rose behind her eyelids. She wasn’t sure if this was death or merely sleep that was creeping up on her, but she fought it tooth and nail. She couldn’t go away. Not yet – not when she something so important to say. Not when he had something so important to hear. 

Her throat burned, but Belle forced the words out anyway. She was unbearably thankful when he didn’t move to interrupt – it seemed he was just as anxious to hear what she wanted to say as she was to hear it. 

“Rumplestiltskin… I… I love you.”

His eyes burned with rage, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Not when he let go of her throat and dragged her face to his with a desperate snarl. 

Belle tried to force oxygen back into her limbs, anything to slap him or at the very least pull him closer, but she was just as content to let him devour her mouth. She smiled brilliantly around his top lip when she felt the skin on his nose begin to shift – he could lie all he wanted, but his body knew that what they shared was true love.

All too soon, though, it seemed that Rumplestiltskin had noticed the effect of magic on him, too. He backed away, horror written in every line of his face, whole body shaking as his hands flew to his lips. It was all too familiar an image, and Belle was torn by an odd desire to either laugh or cry. Instead, she forced that energy into ensuring she was stayed standing up. 

“Belle?” he croaked. “Belle, is it you?” 

A breathy laugh escaped her throat, and Belle immediately regretted doing so – it felt like her windpipe had been lit on fire. 

“Of course it’s me. Do you think Regina would put up with that?”

He shook his head rapidly back and forth. ”Not possible. I’m dreaming again. You’re dead.”

“I’m not dead!” she rasped. ”I’m right here! You felt me, Rumplestiltskin!”

“Not possible,” he repeated. ”Regina told me everything. She said your father had you tortured. That you were… that they flayed your skin.” His eyes twitched to her wounded arm. ”And then… and then you killed yourself. You jumped out of the tower window. That’s what she said.”

Belle had never hated anyone before - it wasn’t particularly in her nature, nor had she met anyone who deserved such a strong emotion. But Regina was quickly making her way to being the first on Belle’s list. 

“She lied. After you threw me out, she tried to kidnap me, but I escaped. I haven’t seen papa since we made our deal. I promise you, I’m right here. Touch me again. Use your magic. You aren’t dreaming, Rumple - I came back. I came back to you.”

He stepped forward again, and Belle flinched before she could stop herself. She didn’t fear him in the least, but it seemed that the bruises on her body still did.

A broken moan left her Rumple’s lips, a noise like he was being tortured, and he fell almost instantly to his knees. He clutched the bottom of her tunic as like a lifeline, sopping it with the unshed tears in his eyes. 

“Gods, I’m so sorry,” he whimpered, feeling out every inch of her skin and oh how marvelous it all felt. “I hurt you. I hurt you, my Belle. 

He fingered the small knot at the back of her hip where he’d dug in so deeply with his claws. Cool wisps filled her bones until the bruise was all but forgotten, and Belle nudged into his palm in thanks. “I’m so, so sorry Belle. I’m a monster. I should never –”

“You didn’t know I was me,” she interrupted, pushing his lank curls from his eyes. “And you’re not a monster.”

He ripped himself away from her, hands twitching and eyes twisted in disgust. “Yes I am. I almost killed you. I almost… I almost destroyed you.” 

She was done with this game of tug-of-war - with all the strength she had left, she launched herself into his arms, nearly sprawling them both onto the floor. 

“Regina hurt you, Rumple. She hurt me, too.” Belle lifted her cut arm, and he whined at the sight of her missing flesh. A moment later, the wound disappeared, replaced by his soothing hand, but she refused to let the newfound peace distract her. ”It’s okay. We’re together now, you know me. I’m here, Rumple. I’m not going anywhere. I love you.”

His eyelids fluttered closed at her words, but not soon enough for Belle to miss the joy and relief in his expression. His throat clenched tight, she could tell even without touching it. 

“Yes,” he finally murmured, and, when his eyes blinked open, his tears fell down like rain. ”And I love you, too.”

Belle pulled him tighter, not even caring how the laughter burned her throat – this was everything she’d wanted, everything she’d hoped for on the journey back. She didn’t even mind when he pulled back, for his hand caressed her face the entire time. To anyone else, those nails might’ve been an absolute terror, but Belle stroked them lovingly with her tongue. If it weren’t for the lack of oxygen reaching her brain, she’d never have been so bold. Or maybe she would have - she’d been craving his touch since the moment she laid eyes on him, it felt like, and she refused to wait another moment. 

He shivered at her touch, but at least he didn’t leave her this time. “You’re freezing cold, sweetheart,” he muttered, and Belle grinned at the endearment. He’d come very far indeed if he was willing to call her that just moments after confessing his own love. “Come on, we need to warm you up.”

He snapped his fingers, and a fire roared into life in the furnace. Warmth rushed over her skin, reminding her of just how cold she’d actually felt, and she shook with delight. She couldn’t miss the way that Rumple’s eyes dragged over her chest at the motion, and, for the first time all day, she appreciated how it all but bared her corseted breasts. She wondered what would happen if she showed him more. 

Rumple’s tongue darted out to touch his lips, and that was all the confirmation she needed – it was unladylike, perhaps immoral, and entirely out of the blue, but she hadn’t fought her way through three kingdoms and an overly-made-up queen to have that stop her. He loved her, and admitted to loving her, and that was the only thing she needed to know.

Before he could attempt to move them closer to the fire, before he could even attempt to look away, Belle shrugged her shoulders out from the loose tunic. She was aware of his eyes on her as the ratty thing fell to the floor, but she didn’t let that stop her from unlacing the first stays of her corset, even when the blush in her cheeks felt like burning. She did, however, laugh at the sound of his half-gurgling protest.

“What… what are you doing, love?”

She didn’t answer him with words, mostly because she didn’t know which ones to use. Instead, she let her corset drop to the floor beside her tunic, and, despite her anxious shiver, stepped closer for his perusal.

“I’d like you to kiss me now.”

He stepped forward, whole body shivering as if he were the one who’d been caught outside in the rain. His face, glittery gold and lined and rapt with attention all on her, bent down closer to her own, and she opened her lips to accept his. She was sorely disappointed, then, when they only touched her cheek.

“I can’t kiss your mouth, Belle,” he whimpered, but dear gods did he make a show of tracing her jawline with his tongue. “Not yet, anyway. The reason I… the reason I made you leave was that I thought you wanted to take away my magic. Because that’s what would happen if we kissed – your love, True Love, would take away my curse and all the powers that go with it.”

Belle knew that her shock had to be blinding, but she couldn’t hold it back. “But all Regina said –”

“Well, you should know by now how she lies.” 

Belle shivered – not that she ever wanted to be, but, now in particular, she was very thankful to not be Regina.

“We… we can talk about the details later,” she eventually whispered. “Right now, I just want to touch you.”

Everything seemed to slow down as she reached for his own silken tunic, pushing both it and his horrid jacket to the ground. His eyes were still glued to her breasts, and, feeling a sudden wave of unease, she pulled him tighter so he would cover her up. Their nipples touched. Both shivered, the sensation so much more than fingertips or tongues. 

“This-this feels amazing, Belle,” Rumple stammered around the tendrils hanging in her forehead. ”But you don’t have to hide from me. You’re gorgeous. I’m the monster here. I’m the one with the horrid skin, and nasty teeth, and dirty claws, and - “

Belle slapped the dirty claws in question to his mouth and kissed the back of his hand with all she had. She didn’t know where the inspiration to do so came from, but, then, even she could admit that shed always been a bit clever. She risked poking her tongue between the slits of his fingers before nervously pulling away. 

“I think you’re gorgeous, too, Rumple. I always have. And even if I didn’t, I’d still love you. I’ll always love you.”

His eyes, bronze and deep and watery once more, met hers in the tenderest of gazes. And then it was like the world had suddenly sped up. His hands were on her clothed thighs, and then against her boots, and both disappeared instantly at his touch. Swirls of violet smoke consumed them until they were both entirely naked and raw with love for one another. His mouth met hers, and she gasped when his cock poked against her wetness. This was going too fast, much too fast for her to process. She only intended for them to touch, not this. She needed to tell him to stop – she needed them to take a break and talk about what they were going to do.

But then she saw his face, the desperate love and longing in his eyes, and she couldn’t bring herself to care. They could talk later. Right now, this moment, was for them.

“Rumple, I… I want you to love me,” she whispered.

He looked stricken at her statement, as if she’d flayed him herself. “I do love you, Belle. So much.” 

Belle groaned. She knew how this was done - she’d seen sheep mate, after all, and she’d read romance novels – but she was embarrassingly inept when it came to talking about it. What was “it” even called?

“That’s not what I meant,” she apologized, kissing his jaw even though all she wanted to do was touch his lips. “I meant… I meant that I want you to touch me.” 

He reached out a tentative hand, eyes alight with confusion, but Belle shook her head no. She grabbed his fingers, kissing each one in its turn, and placed it tenderly on her hip. “I meant that I want you to touch more.”

She almost laughed at the gradual shift in his expression, his confusion morphing into almost horrified understanding. 

“You… you what?”

She didn’t care to repeat herself – she felt like she’d done enough of that over the last few minutes. Instead, she took a deep breath and moved his fingers to the thatch between her thighs, biting her lips to keep from yelping when his fingertips accidentally breached her folds. 

He gulped, he took a step away, but his hand stayed where it was, and Belle counted that as a minor victory. “You don’t mean that, Belle,” he murmured, shifting to hide the obvious bulge in his leathers. “You don’t -”

“Stop telling me what I can’t or don’t mean, Rum,” she snapped. “I do. I want to feel you all over. I want to feel every inch of you pushed against me. I want to feel you inside me.”

Her last words, it seemed, had broken a dam inside him. He swept her up into his arms, holding her like he had that day he’d caught her by the curtains, and deposited her as quickly as possible on the rug by the fire. She could see in every movement of his eyes how desperate he was to kiss her lips, and she wriggled happily under that knowledge. But then he was pressed once more against her opening, and all thoughts that didn’t directly involve how much she loved this, how much she loved him, left her mind. 

“This might hurt, just a bit,” he apologized, caressing her breast in early apology.

“It’s alright,” she reassured him. And really, it was – any pain at this point would be worth it just to hold him in her arms. 

Rumplestiltskin sighed, and made that last tentative move to put himself in her body. They both groaned, but, thankfully, hers was born more from a pleasurable discomfort than any actual pain. 

“You feel wonderful,” she told him truthfully, wriggling to the left so he’d be better positioned. His eyes were alight with new tears, and he nuzzled his lips heavily into her hair, pressing in even deeper all the while. 

“So do you, Belle. You feel like heaven. I love you so much.”

He sobbed when he released he was in her to his balls, his cool tears dotting her cheeks and tongue.

“You came back,” he whispered, and Belle knew it was because his voice was too choked to manage anything louder. “My Belle. You came back.”

Belle arched her back into a near perfect arc, moaning in discontent when her head leaned so far back that she could no longer see him. “Of course I came back, Rumple. I love you.”

—————————————————————————————————————————————-

Rumple plunged deeper, a pathetic little whine leaving his mouth as he did. She loved him. His precious Belle, the only woman he’d ever trusted, said she loved him. 

He traced his hand down the slope of her breast, squeezing roughly when she arched her body again, bent almost double on the floor with her hot skin in his face. This was heaven, the closest he would ever get to feeling true paradise except for finding Bae. Nothing could be better than having her promise of love and devotion ring in his ears. Her eternal love and devotion. 

His eyes widened, fear and hatred at himself welling up from the depths of his soul. Eternal. Forever. She didn’t mean that. She couldn’t - no one could. And that’s when it hit him that nothing could be worse than her promises, either. 

Her hands caressed his face, obviously seeing that something was wrong, but he wrenched away. This was agony, and he berated himself for not thinking of this as soon as fell down at her feet. It would’ve saved him the pain of knowing how her body felt, inside and out, when he’d never get to have her again. 

“You don’t love me like you say you do,” he whimpered, slipping shamefully from her body. She moaned, but he ignored the sound lest it make his cock ache even more – he refused to be more pathetic than he already was. “You can’t.”

She leaned up, curling his locks between her fingers, and he felt the thick salt of many tears coat his cheeks. “That’s my decision to make, Rum, not yours,” she said, stern but soothing all at once. She was such a miracle, and it only made him cry harder. 

“That’s the point, Belle. You say you love me now, but you don’t really mean it.”

“Of course I mean it! I –”

“You don’t. You can’t. One day, sooner or later, I – I’ll fuck something up, Belle. And you’ll make the decision to take it back. You’ll tell me that what you said was just a lie. You’ll tell me you never loved me at all, just to save yourself the pain.” His shoulders shook with unsuppressed sobs, and he realized her hand had fallen from his shoulder. She was already leaving him, whether she realized it or not. And it fucking hurt. “I can’t let you do that Belle. I can’t go through that again.”

Her tiny little fingers clasped around his face, drawing him in for the gentlest of kisses on his forehead. 

“Again?” she asked shakily, and he realized she was crying, too. “Rumple, what are you talking about?”

He wanted to speak, open his mouth, heart, and soul to the lovely woman kneeling in front of him. He wanted to tell her everything. But having her share all that knowledge, letting her in just that little bit more, would make it so much harder when she finally left. 

“It doesn’t matter, Belle,” he muttered. “Please, just leave me be. Your room - your real room - is the same as you left it.” He put his face in his hands so she wouldn’t see him cry, pressed his claws into his skin in punishment. He’d only drive her away faster if he kept this up, but that thought only made the tears come faster. ”I can’t… I can’t have you take it back again.”

Belle crawled forward and ripped his hands from his face. He tried to cover himself again, but she held him close without a thought. He wanted to back away, to make her leave him in his misery, but he was too much a pitiful coward to do anything but pull her closer. 

“I never took it back, Rum. I’ve always loved you.” He shook, but she refused to let that stop her. “I’m never gonna stop, Rum. Nothing you can do, nothing anyone can do, will ever make me stop loving you.”

He wanted to argue. Damnit, he wanted to make her understand – he was a murderer, a thief, a felon, a crook. He was the worst excuse for a husband and father that the world had ever seen. There was nothing about him that was worthy of her love. But he couldn’t bring himself to fight her. It would hurt him – fuck, it would kill him – when she finally found out and left. But for now… now, he had her body, and her love, and he wasn’t brave or good enough to give her another chance to escape. 

He pulled Belle into his lap with a shallow sob, nudging his way back inside as he lowered them to the heated flagstones. She felt just as wonderful now as she had the first time, and he knew that she always would. This was heaven and hell and pleasure and torture and he couldn’t deny his cock the joy of plunging in deeper if he tried. 

He had enough sense left to push one fist between them, toying with that little nub of flesh above her opening until she threw back her head and moaned. A well of pride unlike any he’d felt before rose up in his chest – he was doing well, for the moment. He was making his Belle feel good. 

Emboldened, he stretched her legs to the side, gasping at how much more that opened her up to him and how wonderful it felt to slide against her outer lips. He moved them to his shoulders as quickly as he could, wanting to feel her even deeper if that was possible. But she hissed at the sensation, and he immediately brought his hips to a halt. It felt like dying, but the punishment was necessary if he’d hurt his Belle. 

“I’m going too hard,” he panted, moving once more to withdraw. This had to be perfect. Giving her pleasure like this was the only way he could think of to properly thank her for her love, and he wasn’t about to ruin it. 

It surprised him to no end, then, when Belle shoved herself up on her elbows and yanked him back in with her heels. They both hissed when his balls bobbed against her ass, and he had to use every ounce of magic he possessed to keep from coming right there. 

“Not… not hard enough,” she whimpered, wiggling maddeningly against his haunches. ”Want more.”

He groaned heavy into the air. He’d been wrong to think she was trying to take his power with her kiss - this was the true moment of dismantling him. He found that he couldn’t wait. 

Even though she’d begged for more, he tried to be gentle when he reentered her body. He tried to be smooth, slide his way in gently until they both moaned with content. But it just wasn’t possible with her thighs pressed hot against his, her walls clenched tight around his cock, and the knowledge that this was actually what she wanted. 

He smashed into her, drowning in the wet silk of her mound and her harried cries of “yes”. He dug his nails into her hips, almost laughing with joy when that caused him to push deeper still. 

“Look-look at me,” she stuttered, even though her own eyes were shut tight with ecstasy. “Look, please.”

“I’m looking, Belle,” he assured her, pressing her knees closer to the floor so he could see even closer. He wanted to memorize every inch of her precious face – he didn’t know how long it would last, after all. 

“Good. I-I’m about to break,” she whimpered.

He shoved in faster, harder, at her innocent description – maybe he’d corrupt her later, teach her words like “cum” and “orgasm” and “pussy” and “fuck” so she’d know exactly what to ask for. She could tell him everything she wanted, and he’d jump at her command – it was the least he could do, the very least, for tossing her away. This time, he’d keep her as close as she wanted. 

Belle’s little moans and sighs rose higher and higher, louder and louder. Her walls clutched desperately at his cock, begging him to stay when it was all he could do to keep moving faster. The squelching of her thick, wet juices enveloping him, making him feel more at home than he had in over three-hundred years, made his eyes cross with pleasure. 

“I love you, Belle,” he growled, trying to manage something more human sounding for her but failing miserably. “So much.”

Her eyes were still closed, but she lifted one hand to caress roughly at his sweaty temple. “I love you, too, Rum.”

Her words and her quivering body were too much – his cock burst free inside her body, filling them both with sticky heat and ropy moisture. Somehow – and he honestly didn’t know, but he thanked all the gods he knew of that it was true – that made his Belle come apart, too, body shaking and voice issuing forth the most beautiful screams he’d ever heard. He wished he could drink every one from her body, but that would mean touching her lips and he still had enough sense left not to risk that. He compensated the best way he could, nibbling lovingly at her earlobe and telling her just how beautiful she was while his hips rode out the last dregs of both their orgasms.

When they were done, when her body and his were finally spent, he lowered her legs back to the floor, not wanting to harm her muscles by leaving them dangling in the air. He whimpered like a puppy when that made him slide from her still willing flesh, but then her arms wrapped around him and everything was alright again.  
—————————————————————————————————————————————-  
Belle shook and panted in the aftermath, limbs too limp to do anything but stroke Rumple’s hair and hold his head to her cheek. There had been a pain to being with him, a sharp sting in the back of her womb, but, more than that, there was a sense of wholeness. A sense of loving him and being loved in return. If this was all that her new life with him would be, she wouldn’t mind a bit.

Moments later (or maybe hours - she found that she’d lost all sense of time), he rose up on his haunches to gently massage her hips and shoulders. “Are you sore, love?” he panted.

His middle finger accidentally caressed the skin above her inner lips, and she moaned. “Just a little. In… inside.”

Like that, his hands and body left her, leaving her even more achy and bereft. “I’m so, so sorry, Belle. Here, I’ll just –”

“You’ll just go back to touching me,” she demanded, blushing at the desperation in her voice. “You’ve got me worked up again, and I’ve never been able to take care of that myself.”

He didn’t even bother to hide how his cock bobbed at that information, and the sight had her biting her lip in ecstasy. She’d always heard that a man’s cock was an ugly thing, but, so far, she hadn’t found that to be the case. But then, she’d also heard that men couldn’t be ready to make love again in so short a timespan. Maybe it was just Rum. 

“You… you touch yourself?” he stuttered. She smiled when he dutifully replaced his fingers on her breasts, massaging ever so gently. 

“Used to. When I lived here, it was all I could do to keep my sanity intact. Honestly, Rumple, you could’ve worn something besides those leather pants.” 

He snorted. “I’d hoped it would impress you when I started wearing them. Not that I’m anything to look at, but I hoped… well, I hoped you’d look anyway.”

She scooted closer, forcing his thumbs to drag across her nipples. It felt like heaven. ”Of course I noticed, you silly man. I’m surprised you never caught me staring.”

He laughed at her again, but it was somewhat muffled by the fact that he’d taken her left breast into his mouth. She hummed with joy and wrapped her hands around his shoulders. 

“I’m staying with you forever. You do know that, don’t you?”

He raised his head barely an inch, almost as if he were afraid to put any more space between them. ”Well, those were the terms of our deal,” he quipped. 

She kissed his scalp, smiling when he nuzzled deeper into her flesh. ”Not because of the deal, you silly man. I want to stay with you forever. Just try to make me go away again.”

Belle meant to sound serious, afraid that he wouldn’t truly believe her otherwise, but her yawn rather ruined the effect. She couldn’t describe her happiness, then, when he pressed a kiss to her jaw and answered gravely, “Never. I’ll never let you go again.” 

She snuggled into his arms, smiling when she felt him raise one to magically stoke the fire. His heat, as well as that from the fireplace, made her feel safer than she’d had in weeks. 

“We’ll talk more when I wake up,” she promised, rolling into him so he could wrap his legs around her waist. His cock was still hard, bouncing tremulously against her thighs, and she prayed that it it didn’t hurt him too badly. All the gods above knew she’d want to shower it with attention when she stopped being drowsy. ”And… and other things, of course. I’m still a bit worked up.”

He shivered from stem to stern, and Belle sighed at the love he had to feel for her in order to push away his own desires. ”Anything you want,” he whispered into her hair. ”We’ll do everything.” 

She fell asleep against his chest, just as she’d dreamed of doing since her second month of working for him. He petted her hips and thighs, just as she’d dreamed since she first learned what such a touch could do. Before she shut her eyes, he vowed against her ear that he’d always love her. And that beat any dream that she could ever remember having.


End file.
